


Untitled #1

by azryal



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Blood, Fluff, Frottage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-11 12:50:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1173283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azryal/pseuds/azryal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ragnar is ambushed. His attackers brag about killing Athelstan. Then they die.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled #1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by conversations on Tumblr and written in 30 minutes while half-drunk.

Athelstan turned towards the tree line, ax at the ready.  When Ragnar came crashing through the brush, wild-eyed and red stained, he kept the weapon high but called out, “Ragnar! Are you followed?”

Ragnar did not answer. Athelstan waited a moment before moving closer. Ragnar still did not move. He stopped and stared at Athelstan, teeth bared in a grimace as he gasped for breath. In one hand, he held a broken sword and the other opened and closed on empty air. His tunic was heavy with blood, his face sticky with it, and he did not speak.

No sound of chase came from the forest, only birdsong and leaf speak.

Athelstan stowed the ax once more at his hip. “Ragnar? Are you hurt?”

The sword dropped and Ragnar came forward. There was no speaking. Not in words.

Ragnar pulled him close and gripped his hair. There was a moment of pain for his teeth set to Athelstan’s lips with too much fervor, too much hunger, but then they gentled. He shuddered and moaned into Athelstan’s mouth and Athelstan answered with a draw on his tongue. There was blood between them; cold where it clung to Ragnar’s skin. Hot where it flowed from Athelstan’s lip.

Ragnar did not end the kiss, but held him with one hand wrapped tight in Athelstan’s dark curls while his other pulled at belt, laces, tunic and trousers and every piece of clothing Athelstan wore. It seemed that, in a blink, he was tangled in half-shed garments and yet Ragnar did not stop.

He was pushed, hard, and still Ragnar held him. They fell together with Ragnar atop him and between his knees before he could catch his breath. His body woke and rallied against Ragnar’s stomach, pressing painfully against belt and knots but it felt good.

Everything Ragnar ever did to him felt good. Even when it wasn’t.

But there was more cold blood, this time oozing out of the wool when he squeezed Ragnar’s tunic. He tried to feel for wounds but Ragnar would not be still. He turned his head to free his lips. “Ragnar! Are you hurt?” he asked once more, tracing shoulder to elbow to ribs in an attempt to find any injury.

In the next heartbeat his wrists were held fast to the ground. Ragnar reared up and over him and Athelstan felt his cock, hard and hot, press next to his own. He thrust, ground them together and rubbed them with the rough, viscid tails of his tunic until they were both grunting. Their mouths met, over and over, until their lips were swollen and sore and still they kissed. Ragnar moved faster, harder, pushed himself up so that he could watch Athelstan in the throes of his release. Then he thrust into the slippery seed until he also came with a broken groan.

He kissed Athelstan again as he settled, moving his mouth from lips to chin to throat.

“They said you were dead,” he muttered into Athelstan’s skin.

It took him a moment, both to catch his breath and make sense of the words, but Athelstan whispered, “I’m not.”

Ragnar laughed but it more a whisper, a brush of air over his ear.

“Are you hurt?” Athelstan asked, once more.  He tugged his hands free to run them up under Ragnar’s tunic.

“No. It is their blood,” Ragnar answered.

Nodding, Athelstan wrapped his arms around Ragnar’s waist. “Who were they?”

“I don’t know. I don’t care.” Ragnar lifted his head and their eyes met. “Their leader said they had already come for you. I did not think a man would waste his last words on a lie, so I believed him. I thought I would…find you…”

He shuddered again and Athelstan held him tight.

“You found me chopping wood. I’m all right, Ragnar,” he whispered, pressing kisses to Ragnar’s face.

“In my mind, I saw so many things. I have squandered so much, my family, my favor…I can bear these losses. But you,” he looked at Athelstan once more, his eyes dark and still shining, “I would miss you, Athelstan.”

“Good,” Athelstan said, smiling. “It’s good you know this. Now, let me up. We need to get you clean before you go home.”

Ragnar kissed him again. “I am home.”


End file.
